


Scratch

by resdaMalos



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-08-22
Updated: 2010-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:55:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resdaMalos/pseuds/resdaMalos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A record slips, a timeline stops cold. The Knight of Time has plenty of time on his hands now, and nothing to do but think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slip

**Author's Note:**

> A message to the developers of the OTW project:
> 
> I think I speak for everyone in the Homestuck fandom when I say that we could use some control over fonts and colors.
> 
> ANYWAY
> 
> For the sake of clarity, pesterlogs will be presented in bold, with one character in italics, so as to keep everything square. Until a better solution presents itself, that is. :)

It started off as an accident, really. An idle scratch of the timetables, gone awry after a sudden attack. Dave couldn't even turn around because he knew the damage was done.

Dave didn't know the records were removable. Hell, he didn't even know how the hell these goddamn things worked at all. They were just handed to him in an act of providence, by his own future self. He felt like a monkey manhandling delicate machinery, or a cat that had just jumped up on the stove, about to burn itself.

He kinda liked that second analogy, anyway, he sometimes felt almost ready to burst into flame his planet was so hot.

But he was getting off track again.

The real question now was how to get time moving again.

He had panicked at first; as his entire universe came screeching to a halt, and the record flew off of its spindle, he was sweating bullets. Thank god, he supposed, that he hadn't lost the other record too. Otherwise he wasn't sure he'd even be able to move.

Some Knight of Time he would be then - the entire universe frozen in place, no one able to do anything to stop it. Knight of Time. Knight of what?

_Come on, Dave, get it together._

Davesprite had not given him much more than a cursory explanation - "here, the right one controls the timeline, and the left one controls where you appear in it, just dick around with it a bit and you'll figure it out". Yeah, because a device that gave a user absolute control over their location in time and space was something you could just dick around. _Man, I can be a real asshole sometimes._ He laughed to himself, allowing himself the simple pleasure.

Dave watched as the record flew for a moment, before hanging in mid-air; Dave instinctively reached for it, but found it extremely hard to move._Of course,_ he realized, _even air molecules are frozen right now._ He wondered for a moment how he was able to breathe frozen air, but chose to ignore it for the sake of his sanity, chalking it up to "weird magic shit".

He could not run after the record, for the simple act of walking forward felt like moving through molasses. Fortunately, the left timetable solved that problem - a single scratch and he appeared right in front of the record. He snatched the slowly-falling piece of vinyl out of the air, and strained his muscles against time to place it back onto the right timetable. For surely once the record was back in place and spinning again things would go back to normal. He threaded the record back onto its spindle, and lowered it onto the platter.

Nothing. The record refused to spin on its own. He pushed it clockwise - all around him, objects moved forward in time. A counterclockwise push reversed them. But as soon as he took his fingers off the record, everything stopped again.

He took a quiet moment to curse himself for being such an idiot. Only a top-tier gogdamn fool would have let his guard down when manipulating the flow of space-time.

But there was no way he was going to give up now. And he figured that of everyone he knew, there was at least one person who would be able to help.

Dave futilely tried to access his iShades; when they refused to switch on, he slapped himself in the forehead. He scanned the area, and found a convenient metal scaffolding to rest on, and in an instant, he was there, no trace of him left behind on the motionless gears below. Again he flipped the switch, using one hand to keep time moving forward, albeit slowly.

**\-- turntechGodhead** **[TG]** **began pestering tentacleTherapist** ** _[TT]_ ** **\--** ****

**TG: hey rose** **  
TG: i could use your help  
TG: more fucked up time shit  
TG: timetable on the fritz  
TG: could you maybe use your dark majykk enyrjjies to majykk up a solution  
TG: you there**

He stopped. Even for her, Rose was taking an awful long time to respond. He moved his right hand in tighter circles, trying to speed things up somewhat.

After an eternity, purple pixels started to light up on Dave's shades. They formed legible words another eternity later.

** _TT: You just sent six messages within a tenth of a second._ **

Fuck, how fast was this record spinning before it stopped? Dave strained against all hope to get it moving faster.

** _TT: What did you do?_ ** **   
** **TG: right platter decided to kick its shit** **  
TG: thats the one that controls time  
TG: i think if you could get it spinning or something  
TG: bam everything back to normal  
TG: so yeah my right hand is getting tired** **   
** ** _TT: Ha._ ** **   
** **TG: shut up and get over to lohac** **  
TG: i dont know how long this will keep working  
TG: i might break it  
TG: or something  
TG: its really fucking complicated  
TG: next time i see future me i might just commit suicide by proxy  
TG: after i get detailed notes on the construction of this thing  
TG: permanent ink  
TG: black or blue only  
TG: signed and notarized  
TG: in triplicate** **   
** ** _TT: It might be more prudent for you to take your gate backwards to my planet._ ** **   
** **TG: what why would i do that** **   
** ** _TT: All of my resources are here._ ** **   
** **TG: ok yeah ill just fly all the way up to the gate** **  
TG: all slow motion like nick cage in some shitty action movie  
TG: on unreal air which already takes like a gogdamn year to get up three feet  
TG: all while spinning this turntable like a motherfucker  
TG: you cannot beat me at a record scratching contest  
TG: i am simply the best there is  
TG: muscular right arm spinning all the records  
TG: all of them  
TG: im a motherfucking dj hero now** **   
** ** _TT: Your rants are nearly bearable when they happen all at once. It's almost cute._ ** **   
** **TG: right anyway im coming over** **   
** ** _TT: I will warn John and Jade that you will be temporarily indisposed._ ** **   
** **TG: yeah thats the ticket** **  
TG: because when the entire space time continuum is in danger  
TG: the absolute worst thing to happen would be if someone tried to talk to me  
TG: what if i move my hand in the wrong direction  
TG: oh nooooooo as jade would say** **   
** ** _TT: I hope to see you sooner or later; sooner for me, later for you, I suppose._ ** **   
** **TG: ha ha laugh it up lalonde** ****

\-- turntechGodhead **[TG]****ceased pestering tentacleTherapist****_[TT]_****\--**

Dave switched off the chat window, and let time stop again; fatigue was already setting in. His house wasn't too far off, but the upward ascent would take far too long unless he started now.

He spun the record, feeling the grooves under his fingers, and obtained Unreal Air from his fetch modus. Dave jumped onto the skateboard in midair - an easy feat when it was moving so slowly - and pointed it gateward.

"Let's get this shitstorm overwith."


	2. Ambience

The planet moved in slow motion below as Dave continued his long journey, as if the beating clockwork heart of the planet needed to be re-wound. It was his turn to wind it, he mused, his right hand's movement nearly an unconscious action now. He was winding it, making it move, with every rotation of the record.

David Strider, the master of time, more so now than ever; time bent to his will, moving only when he deemed it so. Absolute control was his.

And yet...

He didn't want it. His newfound power over the timeline had taken him out of it, in some respect. His job was clear - keep the timeline moving - and it's hard to take a break when all of existence rides on your right hand making tight little circles. Near-omnipotent control over time came with a price, one he was unwilling to pay. And he didn't like that.

He never even asked for it in the first place. Dave handed Dave a slew of alchemized gear, then did an acrobatic fucking pirouette off the handle and into his sprite. "Hey, you're the Knight of Time now. Go get 'em."

Dave stopped a moment, the record scratching again. He had just successfully psychoanalyzed himself. And in flowery prose, too. Rose was rubbing off on him. He made a mental note to talk to John a little after this, dumb himself down again.

If they got out of this.

Dave took frequent breaks; it's not like anyone would have noticed. In those frozen slivers of time, he could do anything he wanted. Sometimes, he abandoned Unreal Air and hopped down to the planet, pushed imps off of steady ground into midair, then returned to his airborne post, snickering as he watched them fall instantly to their deaths. Other times, he watched and rewatched the same plume of fire ignite from trapped oxygen beneath the churning lava, studying the artful circles it produced.

But most of the time, he just watched, his entire world a still life, his muscles aching, but his mind oddly clear.

Knight of Time. That was his title. His birthright, passed down to him by... himself, he guessed. He had simply accepted it as fact. In the future he is the Knight of Time, so that made him the Knight of Time now. But who's to say that that hadn't happened to him before? Was there a Dave from some other timeline that had told Davesprite the same thing? Infinite Daves from infinite crapsack timelines conferring infinite knighthoods to infinite Daves. Infinite knights - an infinite army of idiots waving around infinite broken swords and infinite red turntables. "Hey, you're the Knight of Time now. Go get 'em."

No. Somewhere along the time line before it got twisted up into some motherfucking Gordian knot, David Strider earned his knighthood. Then he passed it down to himself, who passed it down to himself. Right?

The title itself was a little ridiculous, now that he was sounding it out.

He began to shiver. Heat could not radiate through frozen air. For a brief moment in time, the first time in god knows how long, Dave felt cold. It was a sudden shock, and he wondered why he hadn't noticed before, but the cold was a balm for his aching wrist, so he took it in stride.

The gate loomed in front of him. He spun the timetable faster, not wanting to understand the experience of being instantly transmitted across the Medium moment by moment. He allowed time to stop once properly in the Land of Light and Rain, and took another rest.

He was glad to have his sunglasses, offering minor protection against the glare until his eyes adjusted. But as the planet became more readily viewable, he gasped. The landscape was beautiful. He had never given it any thought. It was a stark contrast to the constant red glow and heat of his planet. The frozen waves were as glass, yet yielded to his touch; the sand had a welcome grittiness. If he wasn't so set on finishing the game, he'd have no problem setting up shop here. But as it was, he had business to attend to.

He looked around, finding the gates looming over Rose's house, and began the second leg of his journey. He spun the record again.

Dave did little more than stare as Unreal Air towed him across the ocean; the light that emanated from the clouds and poured into the ocean, usually flashing epileptically, seemed to melt and blend and fade from color to color. It was like Aurora Borealis turned up to eleven, and Dave was its sole witness. He marveled at it, sometimes forgetting to spin his record, and realizing his mistake when the lights stayed one color for longer than he thought it should.

Rose's house drew nearer. He took a little pride in seeing the skyscraper he had designed come into view, in sharp relief better than the resolution of any computer screen. He aimed for the bottom, where Rose's old room still was, and where she probably would be waiting for him.

He approached her window, and knocked. Rose looked up, her eyes meeting his. Slowly, she smiled. He hoped against all hope that she could fix this. That this was even something to be fixed. He adjusted his shades, ran a hand through his hair, and smiled back.

Here goes nothing.


	3. Tempo

Dave didn't bother to use the front door, simply gliding in through the blasted hole in the wall, still remaining from John's cheatrocket escapade. Dave performed a showy backflip off of Unreal Air, sticking the landing atop Rose's bed, all the while turning the timetable. Rose slowly turned in her chair, her face sour.

"What? It's not like you didn't know I was coming."

Rose remained tight-lipped, her eyebrows raising.

"Rose?" The realization came, instantly. Dave shook his head. "No, no... Rose."

Slowly, she lifted up a finger. Her mouth opened, and Dave heard the slurred voice emanate from her lips.

"Wwwwwwwhhhhhhhhaaaaaaattttttt dddddddiiiiiii-"

Dave's knees grew weak; he stepped off her bed and sat down, head in his hands. "Fuck. Rose. I can't understand you like this. Come on now, work with me here!" He looked up - Rose was frozen in place, mouth midway between forming one sound and another, eyes unblinking. "Shit, shit, shit," Dave muttered, spinning the platter as fast as he could.

"-ddddddd yyyyyyoooooouuuuu ddddoooo?"

"Rose. No. Come on." Dave spun the record, but his palms were beginning to sweat. It was becoming a chore, turning the record, his fingers slick across the vinyl.

"Iiiiii ccccccaaannnnnttttt hhheeeeeeeeeeaaaaarrrr-"

Dave stopped, picking up his hands. Instantly the guttural, low-pitched wail ceased, and everything froze again. "Fucking bullshit," he said, pulling his hair. "I fucked this one up. God damn it, Rose!" He stood up, eyes locked on her. Her arms were raised in confusion, brow furrowed. "I needed you for this."

He took a deep breath. There had to be a way to communicate with her, properly. He stood up, stretched his legs, and walked about. He looked to her computer, ignoring her unblinking gaze. Everything was frozen - even the monitor was caught between refreshes, showing half of one screen, and half of another. The most recent window on her screen was their chat; obviously not much time had passed. He glanced at the timestamp of his last message; it had taken place only five minutes ago.

Dave stepped back. For him it had felt like almost an hour.

His eyes moved away from the monitor, to a green, bulky hairband, with an earpiece and visor attached. It was her hubtopband, he figured, though he had never seen it in person. It looked extremely unbalanced and uncomfortable - as smart as she was, her creativity with the alchemiter was lacking. Dave figured she had removed it for the time being, opting to use the standard computer interface to do the bulk of her chatting. He picked the hubtopband up, displacing it from the air around it.

Dave turned to Rose, still staring at where he used to be sitting, arms still raised, brow still wrinkled, frozen in the same moment he had left her in. Slowly, he removed her standard black hairband. Her hair behaved as it were gelled in place, the imprint of the band still apparent. Dave gingerly put the hubtopband in its place, and stepped back.

She looked exactly the same, eyes fixed, body unmoving. Her hair was a little mussed from his attempts to adjust the bands, but otherwise nothing had changed. He trembled at the thought of what he had just done. Outside of the flow of time, Rose was nothing more than a statue, a still life portrait of the friend he knew. He had changed her hairband - nothing was stopping him from doing more. Changing her clothes entirely. Changing her hair, her expression. Standing her upright, sitting her on top of her bookshelf, throwing her out the window... or onto her bed... No one around to stop him, or even question his morality. The concept was... frightening at best. He slumped back down onto the bed, as he placed two fingers atop the timetable.

He restarted time and watched Rose spring to life, his hands still turning the record. She moved with delicate grace as she reached up, feeling the effect of Dave's makeover. What was a passing look of confusion looked more like a long, thought out internal monologue under Dave's observation. He watched her chest fall, the whisper of a sigh escaping her lips. She ran her hands through her hair and removed the hubtopband again - unrestrained, her hair slowly fell, cascades of neatly cropped gold. She did her best to push it into place, and placed the hubtopband delicately back on her head.

Dave switched on his shades, and opened a chat window.

**TG: so yeah** **  
TG: um  
TG: this will work better i think**

Rose slowly began to smile, an accepting, "meh" sort of deal.

** _TT: Yes._ **

Dave sighed, continuing to turn the platter.

**TG: pretty sure that this isnt working anymore** **  
TG: needs to be fixed  
TG: it wont spin on its own i have to do it**

Rose watched his hand intently, the gears already turning in her head.

** _TT: I see._ ** ** _  
TT: To me it looks like a blur of color.  
TT: You're moving too fast for me to perceive you properly._ **

Dave humphed.

**TG: okay what happens when i do this**

He slowed down his hand, almost to a stop, then slowly brought it back up to speed. He watched as Rose studied his hand's movement, her own movements slowing to a full stop themselves before restarting.

** _TT: Dave._ ** ** _  
TT: You stopped time there, didn't you?_ ** **   
** **TG: yeah** **  
TG: shits fucked up**

Dave watched as messages slowly came up on his screen. Rose was obviously talking very fast, messages flashing on screen faster than anyone could type, but for him the wait was frustratingly long.

** _TT: I would say that things like this were fundamentally impossible._ ** ** _  
TT: But we really pitched rationality out of the window when we even started this game.  
TT: I knew you were capable of at least hopping through time, I could reconcile that with even my deepest skepticism.  
TT: But manipulating it to this degree...  
TT: This is no ordinary device._ **

Dave rolled his eyes. "No shit, it's a floating gear with a record on top that fucks with time, are you surprised?"

** _TT: Dave, I couldn't catch that. Use the pesterlog please._ ** **   
** **TG: im just saying that this is no time to be scientific** **  
TG: just fix the thing** **   
** ** _TT: To fully comprehend what I must do, I need to understand the nature of the device._ ** ** _  
TT: Can that record be placed upside down? Does breaking it break existence?  
TT: What if spinning the platter fixes nothing?  
TT: What if it makes things worse? Will you still be able to control it?  
TT: What if there was a way to manipulate the timestream further?  
TT: How can this be turned to our advantage?_ **

Dave facepalmed for a moment at Rose's rant, halting it mid-stream. He looked at her - she looked positively elated; her eyes were bright, her mouth curled in a small grin. This was all one big fucking discovery for her. And where did that leave him? Spinning his hand in tiny clockwise circles?

He stood up, taking the timetable with him. He walked over to Rose's frozen form. He wanted to slap her, but changed his mind quickly and restarted time instead. Yelling as loud as he could, enunciating every syllable, he vented his frustration.

"ROOOOOOOOOOOOOSE."

"FIIIIIIIIIIIIIX."

"THIIIIIIIIIIIIIS."

Rose screamed, falling out of her chair. She looked up at him. Though it wasn't clear, she could see the trace of fear in his eyes.

** _TT: I apologize._ ** ** _  
TT: There is a spell that may be of use.  
TT: I must consult one of my books._ **

Instantly, Rose's entire library of occult material appeared on the floor, and Dave was back on the bed, spinning the record, visibly frustrated. She flushed, embarrassed. 

** _TT: I'll get on that then._ ** ****


End file.
